Romancing the Shoe

It was the first time David attended Richard's Capital Punishment Fetish Ball, Washington DC's most notorious annual fetish fashion event. Everyone who was anyone was there, dressed in the most erotic and provocative attire. There were well known Dominatrixes, some accompanied by their slaves on leashes. There were drag queens in gowns and drag kings in tuxedos. There were couples dressed in complimentary dominant and submissive outfits. Almost everyone had tattoos, some with intricate designs covering major portions of their bodies. The other common sight was of body piercings; in the nose, through the tongue, in the navel, through the nipple. This was the place to be for anyone who loved PVC, latex and leather as much as David did.

Not too long ago, David had broken up with a girlfriend, after she decided to become a vegan and stopped wearing leather. Now he was free to indulge in all of his fantasies and fabric fetishes. This was the most bizarre and sexy costume party he had ever attended. Many of the outfits did not conceal, but rather accentuated an individual's normally private parts - brightly painted breasts, thong g-strings that highlighted the ass, see-through panties that casually revealed the sex organs. David knew that it was not polite to stare at these areas - his eyes remained fixed on the floor.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted it...perched on a stair where it had been carelessly discarded. It was a single shiny black patent leather platform pump with a gold six inch stiletto heel. The arch support climbed at a sharp 75 degree angle and a pointed wedge would encase the toes. It must have been size 7 and a half. By itself, positioned on the raised step it looked like a work of art in a museum, a marvel of pedestrian engineering. It was beautiful, but incomplete...like a fine crystal goblet that does not contain a fine red wine. He closed his eyes and imagined it filled with a dainty feminine foot; the vision made him light-headed and he staggered to sit down to compose himself.

The Fetish Ball was in full gear, loud techno-industrial music played and the guests formed small groups engaged in boisterous conversation. David made his way over to the step where the object was on display. He looked around and picked it up and held it in his hand. Without thinking, he concealed it in his coat and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. He knew that it was wrong, but he had to possess it. The Ball was just getting started, the fashion shows and performances were just about to begin, but he made his way to the door. He had accidentally come across the true object of his desire. He had found his Holy Grail.

He took a cab back to his apartment, snuggling the shoe beneath his coat. When he got in, he took his prize out and placed it on the dining room table and gazed at it for several minutes.

Soon, however, his guilty conscience set in...he realized that this was someone's property, that it was an expensive and essential piece of apparel, and that he had committed a theft. He imagined a barefoot Goddess, carrying the partner in one hand, scanning the floor, looking for its mate. She might be muttering to herself, cursing her carelessness, employing her friends to help her find it. She might approach partygoers and embarrassingly ask if they had seen it and maybe even ask Richard to make an announcement on the microphone. He hoped she had or could borrow another pair, so she would make it home all right. Momentarily, he thought about returning to the scene, but the power of the shoe had him in its spell.

He carried it with him to bed and as he laid down, he held it up to his face and smelled the intoxicating aroma of patent leather and the lingering scent of feminine flesh. He pressed the golden spike heel into his mouth and sucked on it like a straw. Like a teddy bear or a security blanket, the shoe made him relax and feel good inside. He rationalized to himself that he needed it more than anyone, even though the owner had now been left with one useless mate. He thought about his fetish...his long obsession with the foot and the shoe. His childhood preoccupation with playing "this little piggy". He remembered being asked to leave podiatry school for becoming too emotionally involved. He had lost many jobs in shoe stores for exactly the same reason.

After spending the night with the shoe, David awoke with mixed feelings of guilt and desire. His wake up erection was in full bloom, but he immediately felt remorse for what he had done and he felt the need to confess his crime and locate the owner and wearer of the shoe. Although the shoe filled him with a sense of comfort and satisfaction, he now felt an overwhelming desire to get to know the feet that inhabited these platforms. He tried to imagine her, like a paleontologist reconstructing the dimensions of a dinosaur from a prehistoric footprint. Of course, she must have beautiful feet - only exquisite appendages could occupy such footwear. Based on her size 7 1/2 , she must be around 5'7'' or 5'8'' in her bare feet. Almost half of this height would be long, luscious legs, sleek and smooth with developed calves and quadriceps. Her hourglass torso would begin with a soft round butt; a tight flat waist; and full perky tits. Her long beautiful hair would fall down to her waist and drape her neck and shoulders. Her face would be young, with pouty red lips, a small upturned nose, sexy penetrating eyes and long lashes. But despite this vision of loveliness, her feet would be her best feature.

He posted a message on FetLife.

Found at the DC Fetish Ball

Did any Cinderella lose a golden slipper at the DC Fetish Ball? If so, I found it. Please message me to arrange return.

Your Prince Charming

Within minutes, he received this message from a 28F Domme that just happened to go by the name Cinderella.

Dear Prince

Yes, I misplaced one of my black stilettos with gold straps and a six inch heel. Can we arrange for you to come to my apartment so you can return it and I can give you a reward.

Cindy aka Cinderella

Through more Fetlife messaging, they arranged the time and the place of their rendezvous and when the day came, David showed up at her place right on time. When she opened the door, David was pleased to see that she looked exactly as he had imagined her -- dressed in a Tee-shirt with tight blue jeans and wearing long leather knee high boots. The sight made him swoon.

David brought flowers, along with the shoe, and immediately handed them to her and said, "hello, I am David."

"Aren't you sweet, thank you, I am Cindy, won't you come in?"

David walked in and followed her into the apartment. She sat down in a plush upholstered high throne chair and he sat down, slightly lower, in a chair across from her.

They looked at each other, exchanging knowing glances between a top and a bottom. David immediately assumed the position of the proposer and the worshiper.

"Take them off", she commanded.

"Yes, Ma'am" he complied. He slowly pulled down the zipper, splaying the long leather boot, revealing her luscious leg and finally her foot. He gasped.

"Now, the other one...but this time pull down the zipper with your teeth," she ordered him.

He looked up at her, saw that she was serious, and proceeded to unzip the boot with his teeth. Soon, with her legs crossed, he gazed upon the barefoot object of his desire, the descending scallop toenails adorned with bright red polish.

"May I put the shoe on and return it to its rightful owner?' David asked or begged, having contemplated this coronation from the moment he found the shoe.

"Yes, but first you may massage them," she said as presented him with her dangling left limb.

David began with a few minutes of fetishistic foot fondling, cradling the gift in both hands and gently rubbing both the slightly tanned dorsum and the pale plantar of the body's foundation. The foot is indeed an anatomical architectural marvel, comprised of exactly 26 bones, 20 articulated joints, and more than a hundred muscles, tendons, and ligaments. He gently pulled and kneaded each digit, starting with the mighty hallux and working his way down to the tiny pinky -- going from the market and then all the way home.

"Now the other one," she said in a contented voice, not wanting her right to feel neglected or jealous of the left.

David switched to massaging the right metatarsus, giving it the loving attention it deserved, tenderizing the sore and tired base that supported all of humanity.

"A little harder on that one," Cindy moaned as he worked on her middle toe.

"May I taste them?' he properly asked permission.

"Yes, you can lick them," she consented. "But first, I want you naked...do it!"

He did as he was told, quickly, removing his shoes and socks, pulling off his tee shirt, unbuckling his belt and stepping out of his trousers, and finally taking off his underwear. She could see his throbbing appendage.

He returned to kneeling position and she presented her left foot to him.

He stuck out his long, broad pink tongue and licked a wide swath up the sole, tasting the salty sweaty marinade. David kissed the top, the heel, and her arch, and licked and suckled each toe in his mouth. He savored them, like tiny Vienna Sausages.

Cindy took her left foot and ground it into his face, pressing it against his mouth and his nose. He inhaled deeply, sniffing the rush of her aroma. His tongue darted in and out of her toes. Both naked feet battered his face, her dexterous digits grabbing his nose.

When he finished he put the shoe on the other foot, finally returning it to the place where it belonged. Then, she said the words he had been waiting to hear...."Now, Cinderella's feet need some lotion."